


Over and Over

by KeepGoing



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 2nd person POV, Follows from when Ian first went to prison until he is released, Ian's POV, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mickey will do anything for Ian, Song fic, Taylor Swift writes all her songs about Gallavich and you cant make me change my mind, The boys talk, and talk some more, mentions of bi-polar, season 9-10 prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: Snippets of conversations had between Ian and Mickey during their time together in prison.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 5
Kudos: 95





	Over and Over

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a short fic but it's like I HAD to write it when I heard "Coney Island" by Taylor Swift off her new album. It is SUCH an Ian song about Mickey. So yeah, the song lyrics are from that song. As short as it is, this is an intense fic. A lot of emotion even with the little conversation and length. 
> 
> As always comments are LOVE. 
> 
> See you guys again when the BIG BANGS come around! EEE!

**_Break my soul in two  
Looking for you but you're right here _ **

“This feels like a dream.” 

He scoffs on top of you, but continues to rub his thumb over your cheek in that way that fills all the empty crevices inside yourself and shatter you into a million pieces at the same time.” 

“If I’m a dream, Gallagher, I’d hate to know what your nightmares look like.” 

You swallow hard and keep getting lost in the blue of his eyes. 

“Yeah, you really would.”

**_If I can't relate to you anymore  
Then who am I related to?_ **

He’s sitting up but you haven't gotten up yet. It's like your cemented. In time. In space. In your thoughts. Your dreams. Your mania. 

“You ok?” He asks gently. 

“I don’t know.” You whisper. 

He nods and reaches back to lay his hand on your arm. Your eyes slide shut at the warmth. The way it calms you. In the way you don’t deserve this kind of tenderness. 

“You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” 

You want to believe him. But you don’t know who you are anymore. Or who you are with him.

**_And if this is the long haul  
How'd we get here so soon?_ **

He’s brushing his teeth and you just keep staring. Its been 8 hours and it all feels so domestic. So foreign. So unjustified. So undeserving. 

“Ay. I got some snacks under the bunk. You didn’t eat, man . You need to. Have at it.” 

He knew. He knew you’d be like this. It should be comforting. It's terrifying. 

You don’t move and he stands next to the bunk and glares down at you. “I told you. I got bottom.” 

You want to make a flirty comment. You don’t have it in you. He senses how you can't even make coherent thoughts yet so he just rubs at his bottom lip and motions for you to move over. You get as close to the wall as you can, the cold concrete welcoming to your back. He lies down on his back, hands folded over his stomach, fingers tapping like he’s itching to touch you. You just stare at him. 

“Just didn’t want you to be alone in here, Gallagher. We don’t gotta…you know, whatever. In here. Just…” He exhales loudly through his lips. “We’ll get you to see the shrink tomorrow, okay?” 

We. 

Like it's that easy for him. It always was. Why can't it ever be that easy for you? With anything? 

“Okay.” 

He turns his head to look at you; the sound of the short hairs on the back of his neck echoing so loud in the tiny cell. 

“You’ll be okay.” 

“Will we?” You ask softly. 

“Hope so.”

**_Did I close my fist around something delicate?  
Did I shatter you?_ **

“I’m sorry.” 

It's been at least an hour since the lights have been shut out. The only sound between you has been the uneven breathing. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” 

You scoff. 

“I’m serious.” 

“There's a lot I’m sorry for. Not just with you. So much…I…” 

“Stop. We don’t gotta do this tonight. We got time. Just…relax, okay? I know it’s a shitty thing to say considering, but…if you wanna talk, we can. Just not now. Just try and sleep. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

You want to touch him. Hold him. Wrap yourself around him. But you can't. You don’t know if you do, who will shatter first.

**_Lost again with no surprises  
Disappointments, close your eyes_ **

His hand has been jerking your flaccid cock for almost 15 minutes. You finally push his hand away and shove yourself off the flat mattress of the bottom bunk. He sighs heavily and sits up as you shove your legs back into your boxers. 

“It’s the…” 

“Don’t.” You snap. Don’t say it. Don’t make excuses. Don’t be so understanding. Don’t look at you like that. Don’t pity me. Don’t wait for me. Don’t leave me. Don’t stop trying. Don’t give up on me. Don’t stop loving me.

**_If I pushed you to the edge  
But you were too polite to leave me   
And do you miss the rogue   
Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?_ **

Your hand is over his mouth and there are teeth marks on your palm and blood down your wrist and the air smells like summer picnics when the foods been out too long in the sun and it's spoiling and his ass is a vice around your cock and the way he keeps reaching back and squeezing your thigh is a vice on your heart. 

Is this what he missed? This chaos? This intensity? The pain mixed with pleasure? The insanity of it all? 

Why is he here? Why is he still _fucking_ here? You still dream about shot gunned beer cans and chin-ups in the summer sky and have nightmares of tacky weddings and padded walls. You hear a baby crying in your sleep and his arms are always right there and it’s the always coming back that breaks you every time.

**_Will you forgive my soul  
When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?_ **

“Why?” 

He’s wiping himself down but the walls are so enclosed you can hear his eyeroll. 

“You know why, Gallagher.” 

“Doesn’t mean I understand it.” 

“Don’t need to.” 

“No?” You laugh. 

“Nope.” 

“Doesn’t seem right to me.” 

He sighs and pulls on his boxers. “Don’t have to seem right. It just is.” 

“Always?” 

He shrugs. “Fucking probably.”

**_Did I leave you hanging every single day?  
Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?_ **

“I’m still sorry.” 

He tightens his grip on your hand. “Yeah. You said.” 

“I don’t know how to make it right.” 

“Don’t got to.” 

“Still should.” 

He pulls your hand until both so that your fingers are intertwined on his chest right where he’s etched his devotion to you and it's just one more thing you have to live up to. 

“You are. Right now. You are.”

**_But when I walked up to the podium  
I think that I forgot to say your name_ **

“We ever gonna talk about the whole Gay Jesus thing?” 

“No.” 

“Got it.”

**_Sorry for not making you my centerfold  
Over and over _ **

“I’m in this. Me and you. You know that right?” 

“Sure, Gallagher.” 

“Mick, I mean it.” 

He looks up from his drawing and there's the smallest of smiles on his lips. Your eyes skim the paper. 

Faith. 

Seems fitting. 

“I know.”

_**And it gets colder and colder  
When the sun goes down** _

“You’ll call?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And I’ll visit.” 

“Okay.” 

“Don’t get a new boytoy in here.” 

He laughs. 

“I fucking mean it.” 

“Oh, I know you do, tough guy.” 

“I’m gonna miss you. So fucking much.” 

“I know. Me too.”

**_The mischief, the gift wrapped suburban dreams  
The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go_ **

Kissing him feels like coming home. Like that summer filled with anticipation and possibility. Like stolen beers and cars and jumping the turn style on the L. Like running for your life and laughing till you can't breathe. It's pill bottles and arguments and the “I love you” on a voicemail you still have. It's under bleachers and docks and vans and borders in dresses. It's small prison cells and nosey inmates and the smell of mayonnaise and shivs and parole too soon and his lips open and inviting and arms that you fit into perfectly. 

It's perfect chaos. It's loud and sometimes on the brink of insanity but it's you and him. It's black on red. And blue on green. Freckles and tattoos and curses and blood. 

It's love. 

Over and over.

_But I think that I forgot to say your name  
Over and over_


End file.
